Entropy
by anathemawrites
Summary: Frank shows Donnie just how Time does and doesn't work. Including tours of nonfunctioning universes and alternate endings.
1. steps

Entropy**  
Creeno  
**

* * *

**Yo. These are a series of one-shots from a Big Damn Prompt List I have on my LJ for my own amusement. D This one is called "The Tower", for the prompt was a spiraling staircase in a building lobby. It's part of a short series I'm calling Entropy. Where, basically, Frank is showing Donnie almost every Tangent Universe, Alternate Universe, and Time Basics.**

** In his own creepy way, of course.**

I'll have a link to the proper format version in my profile in a bit. Hate the way FF does writing format here. Don't own Donnie Darko, but it's fun to tinker with. Review, have fun.

**- Creeno  
**

* * *

Donnie must be dreaming.

He's standing outside of a glass building, and he can feel Frank behind him, waiting. Donnie's freezing in only his Hobie shirt and boxers, feet bare in wet grass.

He's turns to Frank, eyes asking.

Frank lowers his head deliberately.

_GO._

Donnie swallows and turns to face it. The top of the building is too high up to see, storm clouds concealing everything. The grass is clipped precisely, going only an inch up his foot as he walks slowly closer.

There are three sets of revolving doors. The ones to the left and right have caution tape about them, for seemingly no reason, leaving only the center for him to tread through.

He pushes himself in, the metal bar and stark glass cold to his touch, like everything else here.

One, two, and he's in.

The interior could only be described as white on white tiles and floors. Almost every inch of space was white, forcing Donnie's eyes to water in the light. He looked up, squinting, blue eyes blinking in bewilderment and confusion.

Behind the lobby desk (it has to be a lobby of some sort) is a maddeningly tall spiral stairwell. It's made of some black metal he's never seen before, with silver and gold splashed here on there. It wound up, and up, and up, like a spiral, but without branches.

Looking down again, Donnie finally takes a good look at the lobby desk, for what feels like the first time. There's an emblem of some sort on it, resembling a C & W, in gold, intertwined.

A woman sits at the desk, her head in her arms, asleep, a lit cigarette dangling from her fingers, smoke curling up lazily. Her hair is brown, messy, and she's wearing a pea-green suit that makes Donnie almost want to choke.

He approached her, about the only living thing here, feet silent on the white on white tile.

"Hello?"

No response.

He hesitantly tapped her arm, but she still didn't move. Slowly, he reached down and took her lit cigarette. Bringing it to his lips, he took a drag and exhaled.

Then Frank was beside him, menacing and amused.

_THAT'S ENOUGH._

Donnie jumps and the cigarette stains the floor.

The next thing he knows, he's sat up, breathing hard, in his bed, the taste of cigarette still in his mouth.

* * *

**Nothing too big this chapter, just oddness. It'll get better, I promise. **


	2. acta est fabula plaudite

Entropy  
**_acta est fabula plaudite_**  
**Creeno **

* * *

Donnie is dead. 

This is a fact he knows for sure. He remembers the engine falling on him clear as day. Remembers himself laughing near hysterically as it fell on him, remembers the feeling of his lungs collapsing, his heart bursting and at the same time being sucked inside...

And yet, for some inexplicable reason, here he stands at Frank's side―not dead, cold Frank with the human face, no. Frank, _his_ Frank, the one with the metal mask and cold eyes.

He's standing beside Donnie, looking straight ahead, as far as he can tell, watching something. Donnie turns and sunlight washes over him.

The next thing he knows, he's staring down at his own dead body, still in his pajamas from the night he died, lying in a casket.

A small smile curves on his lips.

"I did it,"

He looks up, grins at Frank, unmindful of his mother's drawn face looking down at his corpse, his father clutching her shoulder with tears running down his cheeks and his sisters both holding their hands, not for the first time in the last few days.

"I did it, Frank. I saved them,"

Frank just looks at him, looks over him.

There are quiet, solemn people behind Donnie, all sad, all mourning what they've lost, almost taken for granted. Yes, they _have _been saved. Willingly.

So, he wonders sardonically, where is the applause?

* * *

:) First one who gets the Latin translation gets a cookie and the opportunity to give me a prompt for the next chapter. Woo. Also, has anyone besides me navigated the Donnie Darko website? ) I assure you, it's worth it. Anyway, review, have fun all that jazz. 


	3. hemmorage : frank

_Entropy  
**hemorrhage**_  
**Creeno  
**

* * *

**Frank **

* * *

Frank remembers, clear as day, when everything opened up before him.

Remembers when he ceased to be Frank the Man and became Frank the Manipulated Dead.

Remembers everything just coming to him, what he needed to do, how he needed to do.

(_...lead him down the rabbit's hole_)

(_make him believe_)

(_pay attention to everything_)

(_save us all_)

He doesn't remember when he blended into _just_ Frank the Manipulated Dead, even after everything was fixed.

He just _was_.

* * *

Donnie's is up next. 


	4. hemmorage : donnie

_Entropy  
**hemorrhage**_  
Creeno

* * *

Donnie's turn

* * *

It comes in his dreams.

**«**_his hand closes around the wood of the hatchet and milky white eyes watch him calmly, tells him he has to do this__**»**_

He can't decide or figure out what it all means.

**«**_he has a can of spray paint, and when frank's mouth moves, he writes in perfect tandem, comprehending and at the same time utterly confused__**»**_

He knows what he's doing, but at the same time, he doesn't. It comes and goes, comes and goes.

**«**_cherita looks away ashamed at sean and ron's words and suddenly he knows that despite it, she'll be okay, she'll be fine after all this, so he says nothing__**»**_

And when he knows?

When he knows, he suddenly wishes that he could just open his mouth and spill his secrets, one by one. Open his mouth and let the black ink of words, things he only knows come out, let everyone see them. He wants to watch the words slip like ink onto the floor, spin out and collect on the ground. Let them help him figure out Frank's plan, let them complete the puzzle with him, so he won't be so, so alone.

But then, he isn't alone, not really.

They're all there, but they don't know it, will never know it.

And it's better that way, for him to solve it by himself, because he knows only he, only _he_ will believe.

And that's what Frank wants, right?

One believer in a sea of hypocrites, liars, confused people.

One believer is all it takes.


	5. reminder

_Entropy  
**a note**_  
**Creeno  
**

* * *

What does your index finger do?

* * *

He smiles. 

**DONNIE.**

"Yeah?"

Franks says nothing else, just looks down at him in his dreams, gears spinning behind him, numbers ticking and tocking. He turns and Donnie moves to follow him.

The clock is built like a person: there's a spine made up of gears and copper wires and Donnie thinks that he can hear a small girl singing a psalm in one and another he hears Hitler's voice among a heard of gasmasks, children behind him. He looks up and the arms are made of bones, some new, some old. All have clocks: old grandfather clocks heaving and heavy, twinkling pocket watches wrapped around milky white femur, new, bright watches he doesn't recognize with glaring light and even a sundial, broken and crumbling like the bone beneath.

He looks to Frank, but there's no reflection in his eyes.

Frank turns and Donnie is startled when he can suddenly see a light reflected in his right eye, bright red. The hairs at Donnie's neck stand straight up, he can see a _gun in his hands, angry, sad, calm, __**cold**__, GretchenGretchenGretchen, oh god, __**Gretchen---**_

**DON'T BE SCARED.**

He blinks and the clock has instantly decayed.

All the bones are crumbling, collapsing. The gears don't turn anymore, the clocks have all stopped.

Donnie squints.

The clocks weren't _all_ on the same time, were they?

Frank lowers his head, and cold comes up Donnie's spine. How long did Frank say? How long?

**DON'T FORGET, DONNIE.**

_"Donnie!"  
He jolts awake, eyes wide. Samantha stands in front of him, trembling and terrified.  
"Wh-What...?"  
"You're bleeding, Donnie," Samantha whimpers.  
Donnie lifts his hand and finds a cut on his index finger, circular and oozing blood.  
He scares Samantha as he laughs hysterically._

_Frank was funny. _

* * *

:) Anyone going to see the new Kelly movie? 


	6. gretchen

Entropy**  
Creeno**

* * *

_Wee. Taking a quick break from my Supernatural fic, due to my comp being fried and this movie niggling at me for awhile. [: There'll be about two more chapters in a bit. Have fun.  
_

* * *

There a millions of different Gretchen's.

But, really, Donnie liked his the most.

Sure, 32-year-old Gretchen was fucking hot, but she was tired. She was so, so tired and so unbearably sad. It made his throat tighten up to know that he was the reason why.

She'd stayed there, in Middlesex, after he died. She was always trying to figure out why she felt so….so _empty._ She was a chain smoker, always squinty-eyed, but nice to the neighbor hood kids. She worked a 9-to-5 at a computer place. It made Donnie's eyes to water and Frank wouldn't dare enter it directly.

He never said why, and Donnie didn't want to ask.

Frank was Frank and if Frank didn't want to tell him, then that was probably a good thing.

But Donnie thinks she's too lonely, too unknowingly hurt.

He can't love her like he loved young Gretchen.

He can't love the young, 1901 Gretchen either.

Yes, she's pretty, yes she's young, but she….she isn't _Gretchen_. She doesn't make his heart race as much, her smile doesn't make him feel as awkward as he always did around her, and he didn't feel the need to protect her as much.

He asks Frank why and all Frank does is look down solemnly, but most of all, _silently_.

It's all Donnie needs as answer.

Yes, there is more than one Gretchen. But he loves his the most.

* * *

_Hee. Review, ya'll. _


	7. jim cunningham

**Entropy  
**_Creeno

* * *

_

Well, it's been a year since I got Donnie Darko. [: Aren't cha proud? Also, according to the site, this **did** happen, just not the way I wrote it. Try navigating the site, see for yourself.

* * *

It's cold and dark here. 

Donnie walks close to Frank, eyes down, almost afraid of what he's hearing. He's only been dead for a few days, if this is what death was, and he's never felt this cold in all this time.

"Goddammit!"

He shivers, looks down, but Frank looks straight ahead, over him.

He can hear it in the air:  
_Guilty._

"Goddammit!" The man waves the gun around again, tears running down his face. He goes to his knees, sobs wracking his body.

Donnie feels so, so cold, and he blinks rapidly, trying not to cry.

_Guilty, guilty, guilty._

A gunshot pierces the night air, and Donnie shudders, falls to his knees.

He remembers that he can't save everyone.

Frank merely stands passively, as Jim Cunningham's body cools.

Judgment is final.

* * *

_Happy New Years!_


End file.
